Ambitions, Dreams, and Singers
by DiamondGamer
Summary: Ivan hasn't been feeling good lately. His life gets turned upside down when he finally leaves home - in the company of his friend Feliciano, and people he never thought he'd meet, he may think he has it all.. unless, of course, a beautiful Chinese girl enters his life. Only it's a bit more difficult than he thought it would be. RoChu. Rating may go up.
1. Chapter 1

"You should get a girlfriend."

No answer. Just a blink and a blank stare.

"Are you listening to me?"

He wasn't. Frankly, he was trying not to.

"IVAN!"

"What?" The Russian spoke dryly, crossing his arms. Avoiding his mother's stare wasn't an easy thing; He had had this conversation with her a ton of times. He had promised, she had reluctantly believed, they had ended this temporarily. He didn't understand why she was so insistent on him going steady, and she didn't understand why he was so stubborn. "What do you expect me to do? I'm 23 years old. I don't even have a job yet."

"Yeah.. that too," She added sternly. "You're not planning to stay here for the rest of your life, do you? All you've been doing recently is sleep and play video games. You don't pay the bills, I do. I believe you have better things to do. Like, when was the last time you've seen your friends? Or, you know, gone out? Have you done anything worthwhile at all?"

He rolled his eyes. "They have their own lives. Laura is moving in with her boyfriend, and Feliciano moved out of the city. I don't think I'm 'moving in' in any of their business. I'm fine, mom. I'll get a job and everything."

"That's what you said last time."

"I say many things. I promised you things, and I've kept my promises."

"No, you haven't! I'm worried, Ivan. Ever since you were little, you've been hanging out with the... wrong people. Maybe that influenced you, I don't know, but I just wish you were more open towards people and, you know, romance?"

"Romance doesn't come out as soon as I 'open up', mom. My life is not your business."

Irina Braginskaya was a stubborn, straight-forward, yet loving individual - the 'typical' mother, only a lot stricter. Three children - two beautiful, elegant, prim, proper, polite girls; and him. Just, _him_. Painfully average and ordinary with a couple of friends. Grades that he somehow kept fairly high, and that was it.

"I'm going to work," She announced and got up. Sudden change of subject. That was not good. That meant obvious disappointment, though it was possible she had given up on trying to make a point. "Make something to eat for when Vasylyna and Natasha come. We haven't had a proper dinner together for ages." With that, she walked out of the house, and for the few seconds she was still inside, Ivan glanced at her. Elegant, serious and calm, and that was the type of woman she wanted him to end up with as well.

He lazily turned on the TV and flipped through random channels.

He eventually landed on a music channel and just stared at the screen with no actual interest in the music videos or the music in general. A chat show started airing, and he snapped out of his thoughts and sat up properly to watch it.

_"Grace Jones, everybody! America's most loved!"  
_

_The blonde smiled gently, glancing at the host with eyes bright. "Oh, Hans, don't flatter me like that! I think they'd prefer a llama instead of me."  
_

_The audience roared with laughter, even though the joke wasn't that funny, and Ivan wondered why he even liked watching this show. It usually wasted more time than it could afford to with simple comments and flattery without getting to the point. This time, however, they were quick and straight-forward, and Miss Jones had her share of being 'serious'. What people in the audience kept commenting on, though, was the woman's appearance.  
_

Ivan turned it off and made his way to the kitchen to do as he was told.

* * *

"My, how much you two have changed! Look at you!" Irina cooed, which very much sounded like an overly-affectionate aunt. Still, it wasn't a lie - the two were much different from what he remembered, and they haven't been visiting for a while, probably because of work. Ivan couldn't deny he missed the two - the sweet, gentle Vasylyna and the timid and goodhearted Natasha. Those two were perfect in a way no one could describe.

Vasylyna was a beauty, and in a way, she hadn't changed much - a bit chubby, with her trademark bob cut and bright eyes. He remembered Irina had been a bit hard on her during her teen years, as she was usually disoriented and dependent; but she had grown up to be able to take care of herself, and he had even heard she was getting engaged. Well, now that was new.

Then there was Natasha. The one that used to be the quiet kid people picked on; the one that fell in love too easily; the one Ivan wished he got to know better when they were kids. She grew up as well, and ended up pursuing a career as a lawyer - all her hard work had obviously paid off. It would be a lie to say she hadn't inherited her mother's appealing appearance as well.

They were successful in whatever they were doing. Ivan couldn't help but be a little jealous of that. They had their life together, and he didn't.

Vasylyna was visibly comfortable in their company, chatting away with ease after her empty plate had been taken away, while Natasha just awkwardly sat there, picking at her food, and Ivan felt unworthy of their attention. He merely took the dishes to the sink, served seconds, and listened as Irina praised the two with obvious pride. Every once in a while, Vasylyna would blush and brush the compliments off, but Ivan knew she loved it.

They didn't stay too long. Ivan was tasked with seeing them off, and he didn't know whether to be relieved that they were leaving or feel sad about it. He loved them, but their presence unnerved him. Silently, he handed their bags to the driver, who withdrew himself from their presence.

Vasylyna looked at him gratefully and placed a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened. "You look sad. Is everything alright?"

Everything he wanted to tell her got stuck in his throat. It was what he had told Irina once, and it didn't turn out alright, so why would _she_ understand?

He shook his head, bid her a goodbye, and turned away. The girls only stood there for a couple of minutes, hoping he would tell them something. He didn't. Only when he heard the car drive away, he let himself sigh heavily.

That night, he packed his things - without leaving even a measly note of explanation, he was out.


	2. Chapter 2

Ivan was glad he had been saving up.

The lights in the city in this time of the day were the only thing he found pretty while staring out the window - he wondered if he should roll down the window, just to feel the breeze of his hometown one last time should he ever decide not to come back. Instead, he turned his gaze away and blankly stared ahead. The driver was probably pissed and tired right now, even though he showed no signs of it.

Seeking help from Laura was a stupid thing to do. He'd only get in their way, so the only choice he had was Feliciano. It was a rash decision, but Ivan was sick and tired, and only the small Italian knew why. He was, indeed, a pretty reliable person. _Just for a little while, to get my life together_, he thought and hoped. At that moment, he snapped out of his thoughts, having thought that they were stopping. It was still a pretty long ride, after all.

For a brief moment, he shut his eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating and the softness of the seat. It wasn't a bed, but it could as well be, should the ride take too long. It wasn't long before the sight out the window was no longer familiar, and he smiled.

And then came the thoughts about what to do next. Would he just show up at his doorstep and say, _"Hi, it's me again. Can I stay over at your place until I'm no longer feeling like shit?" _It made him feel a bit stupid, but given that he didn't usually think before making decisions, it wasn't a surprise.

At some point, the car finally pulled over. Ivan paid the driver, apologized for the late ride, and stepped out. Once the car drove off, Ivan felt helpless. Past midnight in a city he knew nothing about, with only the street lights and the moon to guide him - he felt like a little child that lost its mother in a place full of people he didn't know. Only it was empty, and he was 23 years old. It wasn't supposed to be a big deal. He was an adult. Plus, it wasn't as dark anymore - the sun would probably rise in a couple of hours.

It took him a bit of wandering around before he found Feliciano's apartment. He felt even more stupid as he pressed that little red button, and a bit startled and even more embarrassed once he heard the melody ring from inside. It was quiet from where he stood, but a rude awakening for anyone who didn't need their sleep interrupted at a time like this.

A few minutes passed, and Ivan was torn between ringing again and walking off before something happened. It was too late, for the door creaked open, and a smaller figure stood beside him, sleepily rubbing his eyes and then studying him with a puzzled expression. Ivan allowed himself to smile, and Feliciano returned it, albeit still confused about his arrival. "Hi, Ivan!" He greeted, then looked down at his pajamas. "I.. I didn't expect a visit."

"It's me that should apologize for waking you up." Ivan laughed nervously, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "I.. sorry about that. I needed to get out."

Feliciano nodded, instantly understanding his request before it has been told. Ivan was worried that it would only bother him, but Feliciano showed no signs of annoyance. He was just a little tired, but looked genuinely happy about having him stay over. He proceeded to lead the Russian inside.

Feliciano's apartment was spacey and nicely decorated - no doubt the design was his doing. Ivan left his belongings and unpacked a part of them while his friend was in the kitchen, preparing a nice cup of tea for the two of them. Neither of them were in the mood to sleep anymore. The Italian walked back in the living room and set the cups down on the glass table. They sat down.

"Vasylyna and Natasha came over," Ivan told him. Feliciano only smiled at him and they chatted for a while, sharing troubles and fears until Ivan felt sleepiness weight down on him. He nearly fell asleep right there, but his mind was what kept him awake long enough for him to drag himself to the guest bedroom.

* * *

It had only been one day. Ivan really wished he could stay there and sleep for days to come, but this wasn't going to work. That way, he wasn't going to get his motivation to get back up and at least get a job. Grumpily, he got up and looked down at his clothes, realizing he had slept with them. He didn't feel like changing, either, so he just headed for the living room.

Feliciano wasn't present. He had left him a note, telling him that he was currently at work and asking him to make himself at home. Ivan seated himself at the table and took out his laptop - after the daily checking up on his emails, he began the search for work in his area.

He was startled by the ringing of his phone. He didn't pick it up, already aware of who it was. He didn't feel like giving an explanation. It stopped, then it rang once more while Ivan was typing away, and he didn't hear it anymore afterwards. It wasn't long before he got in contact with a young man, and they talked a little before arranging a meeting later on. He smiled at himself and leaned back on the chair. It wasn't going to be as simple, of course, but it was going smoothly. At least in his opinion.

He stretched a little and headed out. A little exploring of the city felt like a good idea.

The city was even busier than he remembered, and he was just a little startled by it. Sort of like a cultural shock, but not exactly. He walked around the neighbourhood, passed by a few shops he would probably need to visit later on, and settled for the moment at a small bakery. The smell of fresh goods calmed him down a little and made his stomach rumble.

"I'm suing you!"

He tilted his head in confusion as he looked ahead to see a young, dark-haired woman that had her back on him screaming at the staff. Before he could help it, he blurted out a "What's going on here?". The woman turned around to face him, and they locked eyes. Ivan just stared without meaning to.

She was a beautiful woman - possibly of Asian heritage, bright red lipstick and silky, black hair like ebony that reached her shoulders. For a moment, she stared as well, her gaze softening a bit. "There was a rat tail in my cake," She said sternly, glancing back at an employee, who quickly turned away in embarrassment. "Can you believe it?!"

There was something so fascinating about that woman. "I'm sure it's a human mistake. I mean, a rat tail is gross, but it happens. The least they can do is give you a refund." He shrugged, resting his arms on the table he was sitting at, then turned at the employee. "It's happened only once, right?"

He stammered out a 'yes' and left the room.

She let out a sigh. "Bakeries like this should be closed down, but I'm going to spare them the embarrassment. I don't feel like having any arguments today. I've had enough of those." She promptly walked out of the bakery, but the image of her would probably haunt him for a long time.

The manager - a tall, petite blonde girl - shot him a grateful look and a smile. "We don't want any trouble with a celebrity right now. Thanks for that - go ahead and pick out something. It's a treat from us."

Ivan only blinked and shook his head. "Thank you, but I'll pay. And no more mistakes like that. Please. Hold on a second- That was a celebrity?"

"You didn't know?" She looked at him as if he was transferring his savings to a donkey in India. Strange comparison, but he had had a dream like that once.. it was confusing. "That's Wang Xiu Ying! She's a singer."

Which meant little chance of them meeting again. How disappointing. He merely shrugged and bought a pastry. It was delicious.


	3. Chapter 3

"You're hired, young man."

The smile that formed on Ivan's lips couldn't have been wider, albeit it was a change he hadn't expected and it unnerved him slightly. The job was simple - he was mainly going to bring coffee to the employees, answer phone calls and inform the others of the callers. They shook hands, and Ivan thanked him repeatedly. "You're starting tomorrow," The man continued, chuckling at his enthusiasm. "Be sure to be on time."

"I will. God, I promise, I will."

On his way back to Feliciano's apartment, Ivan had to wonder whether it would've been the same if he was back home. He probably wouldn't stay for that long, either - as long as he had a bill-paying job, he could afford something for himself. Well, at least for now, he would have to wait.

But what next?

While he wouldn't admit it, even to himself, Ivan was somewhat emotionally unstable. The whole plan of getting his life together consisted of a constant need to make sure that everything is going smoothly, people don't hate him, and his friends have no plans of abandoning him - perhaps that was what tended to stress him out, which, unfortunately, usually lead to unnecessary screaming, wars with oneself and other people and confusion afterwards.

His phone rang as he was unlocking the door. With a bit of hesitation, Ivan finally picked up as he walked in and shut the door behind him. "Hello."

"I almost called the police!" Came an angry voice from the other line, and Ivan rolled his eyes. "I've been so worried! You just left like this! No explanation, no calls, nothing, nothing.. What's up with you?!"

"Yeah, I know, I know. Sorry for leaving just like that. I'm fine now. At least I moved out. One less inhabitant for you. Yay, right?" His tone was cold, but held no visible malice. "I'm not that far away, either, but I'd rather if you didn't visit."

"Why must you be so difficult!?" Ivan had the urge to hang up on her as soon as possible. "After everything I've done for you?! You left without a word! Just like that! Ivan, you know I love you, but all of those years that you've been under my roof, you've been weird. You never tell me anything, you've never said a simple 'thank you' for whatever - be it a meal, me doing the dishes when you feel too tired to do so, my hopeless attempts to cheer you up for something you never tell me about.. it's the same thing with your sisters! Do you really have that feeling that any of us feel hatred towards you at all?!"

He stiffened, and a few seconds of silence followed. He had expected a scolding for leaving without a word, maybe a few questions about his current state and where he is, but she did what he hoped she wouldn't do and brought up his past in the conversation. He began trembling, full of anger he didn't understand. "You may not have felt any hatred towards me, but you never loved me. I've always been the black sheep in your family. No use denying." He hung up on her.

That moment, Feliciano peeked out from the storage room - it had been obvious that he had been listening, but that didn't matter to Ivan. He was shaking, both incredibly guilty for hurting his family and furious at something he couldn't completely comprehend. Feliciano simply stood by his side in silence until he calmed down and headed for the guest bedroom. While there, he pulled out his laptop and began killing time and stress with minigames and Internet friends.

It took a while, but he managed to get himself to relax. He remembered the talk show he had viewed on the TV before he officially moved out, and out of curiousity, proceeded to track down the website and play what they had last posted on there.

_"Our special guest today is-" The host didn't get to finish his sentence before the deafening applause filled the room. A young woman, who Ivan instantly recognized, walked in the room. It was the same person from the bakery._  
_"Oh, please, please.. I'm flattered." She had a charming laugh. Only then did Ivan notice that she had an accent. From the conversation that they had, she actually seemed somewhat arrogant and flamboyant - the Russian felt strange just listening to her; it was as if it was a completely different person from what he saw today. Maybe meeting one in person rather than watching them on a TV was different by itself. He turned off the laptop.  
_

* * *

It wasn't long until Ivan noticed the change in him that the city brought.

For his first job, it felt kind of heavy and annoying, but his colleagues were kind. Ivan wasn't much for a talker, but they most certainly were.

One of them, François, seemed to pay a lot of attention to him, and Ivan wasn't sure whether he was supposed to be flattered or freaked out by his friendliness. He wasn't being nasty nor creepy, but the Russian simply wasn't used to this kind of attention.

"I think I might need to properly introduce you to the staff here," He declared one day, and Ivan merely nodded. "You see the redhead over there? That's Clara." François pointed at a young girl, tall, that had a strange resemblance to Feliciano. Her hair was tied into a neat ponytail, and she had a pretty interesting choice of clothes. Once the Frenchman urged the two to engage in a conversation, Ivan found out that she was a chatty type, much like most of the people there. Friendly, but rather flamboyant.

Then there was Arthur - a blonde British man. He was rather calm and polite when they talked, but Ivan had a feeling that he simply didn't like him. François had laughed it off, assuring him that Arthur didn't like anybody in particular. Still, during lunch, he seemed to be a bit friendlier than Ivan had thought he could be.

"This is Ludwig. He keeps the order around here." Ivan had been a little intimidated by him at first. He was a tall, well-built man that said little words. He turned out to be merely a little timid and kind in general if you got to know him better.

That night, the group invited him for a drink at a nearby pub. The Russian wasn't much of a drinker, but gave in in the end.

The place itself was surprisingly clean and didn't carry that heavy, unpleasant scent of people making the worst choices of their life. For the most part, he kept silent while the others chattered away happily about things Ivan wouldn't understand in, probably, a million years.

"Hey, Russian boy, what was your name?" Came Clara's voice, who let out a hearty laugh at her own forgetfulness. "Ivy? Ivan. No, it was definitely Ivan. Sorry. I don't know why the hell I thought your name would be Ivy."

Ivan offered her a polite smile. "It's fine."

"Clara, you little bitch, can't you for once learn someone's name for the first time? When we first met, you called me Arabella!" Came the British man's voice, who was either under the influence of alcohol or too open for his own good.

Clara responded with punching him in the face, and the rest laughed, much to Ivan's obvious discomfort. "Go fuck yourself," Rang her voice in a sing-song manner. "I'll send you to the hospital, you little piece of unused metal."

Now Ivan wanted to leave. François assured him they did this all of this time, and never actually held a grudge against each other - the Russian was entirely new to this kind of friendship. He didn't exactly want to get into one of those, though.

All of the sternness and serious attitude at their workplace seemed to be gone - even with Ludwig, and Ivan felt uncomfortable, but ended up having a good time nevertheless. He came back home late, only slightly drunk - it was actually the first time he had ever tried alcohol.

And he liked it. Not being drunk, of course, but the feeling that he has grown up and done something for a change.

Feliciano was long asleep, and it didn't take long for the young blonde man to do the same.


End file.
